Farmers and the internet

Buck was drawn to the farmers life after reading about the murdered man from “In Cold Blood”. It wasn’t the part about being murdered that he found attractive, but how stoic and rugged he seemed. In his darkest moments while working late at the office, he found him self overtaken with a vision of himself rising up from the center of a cornfield, scythe in hand, and wiping sweat from his brow while peering pensively into the sunset. He considered it a sign when he was turned down for his quarterly bonus due to being a “flibbity gibbet” and a “dreamer”. He went to the courthouse, legally changed his name to Buck McTibbits, purchased an old Ford truck, purchased a dog with a bandanna tied around it’s neck that could sit in the back, and headed for Iowa.

Since non-corporate farming was a dying art, he was able to purchase a farm for practically nothing. He moved in, and drove the truck and his dog Bucky into town to purchase supplies. But the sight of Buck and Bucky rolling in to Ted’s Feed and Supply brought awkward stares from the locals. He was dressed much like Henry Fonda was in “Grapes of Wrath”. He didn’t help their souring opinion since his social skills were hampered by not being able to discern between stoic and creepy. He treated how he wanted the locals to perceive him much like one would treat their first day in prison- you find the biggest person in the prison yard and crack a chair over their head. The store clerk qualified as that big man, and when he asked Buck, “What can I do yer fer mister?” Buck simply didn’t respond, and only peered with a determined look that conveyed a sense of sadness over the clerk’s shoulder to the window behind him.



The clerk, having seen this all before simply nodded to Phil, the man delivering the Budd Light to the stock room. Phil, taking the hint, casually walked up to the counter and stuck up a conversation while eyeing the ball game playing on the small, black and white television mounted above the restroom doors. “Mornin’ Lou.”
“Mornin’ Phil.” the clerk answered back, sucking his teeth.
“Storms-a-brewin.” Phil added. Leaning one elbow on the counter so that his shoulder nearly touched his ear, while turning his back to Buck and Lou to see the game. Though Buck never changed his gaze or expression, Lou could tell he was trying to see Phil from the corner of his eye.
“Helen’s knees acting up are they?”
“Yep. Yep they are… Doc Hoffman said she should take one of them, what you call, HER-bal remedies for her arthritis.”
“Hmm.. whelp, where you guessin’ you goin’ to buy that?”
“IN-ner-net.” Phil added, his pose becoming a little more tense at the deliverary of this last line. Buck’s expression changes a little. Though common sense would tell him that the internet is common all over the world, he couldn’t help but feel a little upset that his vision of the farmers life was tarnished. There was a silence as the tinny sound of a croud cheering eminated from the ball game. Lou broke the silence once he felt that Phils comment had sunk in.
“You doin much huntin’ there Phil?”
“No sir.”
“How so? Thought you loved ta hunt.”
“Din’ think it was humane Lou. Just din’ seem right to make animals suffer like that for sport. Could just as easily provide for my family by goin’ to the grocery store.” Phil said. Buck took a few glances at Phil. Lou sensed that he would crack soon.
“Goin’ vegi-TEAR-eean are ya Phil?”
“No sir, veegan.”
“That right?”
“Yep. Don’t think it’s right to force animals to provide milk and such, when they should be grazin the lan’ like God wanted em’.”
“You’re a good Christian Phil. My wife and I went Veegan many years ago, and don’t regret a thing. But I couldn’t help but noticed the leather boots you’re a-wearin’.”
“Oh, they’re not leather. No good veegan worth their salt would wear leather. No, I purchased these from a shop out in Greenwich Village.”
“You talkin’ about New York City there Phil?”
“Yep I am.”
“Now, when you get the money to fly out to the Big Apple on your pay Phil?”
“Hell, fly nothin’. I just bought em’.”
“IN-ner-net?”
“Thas right.”

The two of them hadn’t even noticed that Buck was gone. In his haste he left Bucky behind, and had actually shed his depression area bib overalls as he bolted out the door. “Better send the dog to the humane society Phil. I don’t think a naked, city boy is going to come back for this scruffy little thing.”
“What about the clothes Lou?”
“Burn ‘em.”